Rule Number...
by Sheryl Nantus
Summary: Rules and when they are to be broken...


Disclaimer: Yep, I own the Big O and everything else. Really. Trust me.... Okay, well, maybe not... (Bandai, Sunrise, etc. ownership; grovel, grovel, grovel)  
  
Rating: G, Story  
  
Summary: Rules and when they are to be broken...  
  
  
Rule Number...   
By Sheryl Nantus  
  
Rules are what distinguishes the gentleman from the boor; what dictates their actions and behaviors in situations that reach far beyond their knowledge. Rules are what make or break us, no matter what or where or who you are.  
  
I have rules. Rules that must be followed not only by myself, but by others within my household.  
  
So sue me.  
  
But there are times where I can't find a Rule that fits.  
  
Take this past weekend.   
  
I had been contracted to work on a simple local job; negotiating a land grab by a developer from a small gang that ran out of a nearby town. Nothing hard, nothing difficult as long as everyone saved face.  
  
Which, of course, they did. After all, that's what I do best.  
  
But of course, there were complications.   
  
"I hope you'll like the room..." The elderly man smiled as I stepped into the small cabin, Dorothy close behind me. "I'm sorry you have to stay overnight. But these winter storms…" He shrugged once. "See you in the morning."   
  
As the door closed I surveyed my surroundings. Quaint, to say the least. But the bar was well-stocked, as was the cupboards and plenty of firewood for the large fireplace.  
  
And one large bed.  
  
Staring at it, I suddenly felt my cheeks begin to burn. Most unsettling.  
  
Dorothy beat me to it, somehow.  
  
"Roger Smith, I remind you that as an android I have no need of sleep." Strutting over to the single large window, she stared out at where the Griffin was parked. "I shall watch over your car until we leave in the morning."  
  
Damn woman. Knew it would be trouble to bring her along.  
  
"Fine." I retorted. Slipping off my jacket I began to make a fire. "Just don't wake me up before the sun comes up."   
  
A slight nod.  
  
Picking up the phone I dialed Norman.  
  
"Yes, sir. Shall I have breakfast ready, or shall you be eating there?"  
  
"I'll be there as soon as possible. The storm should be over by morning." Putting the receiver back in the cradle I looked at the struggling fire. Kneeling down I tossed another handful of sticks on the flames.  
  
"Roger Smith, that is not the proper procedure to create maximum ignition of the flammable materials."  
  
"..."  
  
Despite the comments soon the fire was roaring happily a few minutes later. Dorothy retaliated by turning her full unbridled attention on the blowing snow outside the window. I, in turn, made coffee and a decent pot of soup.  
  
"Sit down and eat."  
  
"I do not need to eat."  
  
"Suit yourself." I waggled the spoon at her. "Hmm... tomato..."  
  
She turned her head towards me just far enough that I could see the slit of a smirk. Silently she took the opposite chair and began to sip the soup gently and carefully.  
  
As darkness fell I tossed the last large log on the fire and began to prepare for bed. She had returned to her vigil at the window even though there was no way she could see the car now through the night and the storm. At least, that's what I thought.  
  
Blowing out the single candle I crawled into the large bed, wincing at the lumpy mattress and making a mental note to have Norman check out the state of my own bed. I had only flipped off my suspenders, leaving myself fully dressed as to react to any situation that might come up. Best to be prepared.  
  
"Roger Smith..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I was wondering about this habit humans have of sleeping together..."  
  
This was going to be a long night. Rolling onto my back I placed my hands under my head, nodding into the darkness.  
  
"Get on with it, Dorothy..."  
  
"Why do humans share a bed anyway? After all, maximum rest can be achieved most efficiently in a vacant space."  
  
"..."  
  
"Well, it's true. Take yourself. You sleep quite well alone, but Norman reports that you have, in the past, had overnight visitors and always seemed most tired in the morning."  
  
"..."  
  
"Roger?"  
  
"..."  
  
"This is not something we should be talking about."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"..."  
  
"Roger..."  
  
"Humans need the comfort of others at times. Personal touch is important to us and to our mental well-being."   
  
"Ah. So what sort of comfort do you derive while losing sleep?"  
  
"..."  
  
"Roger?"  
  
I placed the pillow over my face, drawing deep breaths before continuing. "I need my rest, Dorothy. We will continue this conversation at some future point."  
  
"I see."   
  
A blessed moment of silence. "But Roger..."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"There's no need to yell at me. I was just wondering if there was a point to losing all this sleep that I have missed. It does not make sense to me."  
  
"..."  
  
"Roger..."  
  
"Let me put it this way - humans like to feel the presence of another body near them, awake or asleep. It creates a sense of security that reminds us of our connections to the larger group of humanity and how we operate not only as an individual, but as part of a whole."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Good night."  
  
Bundling myself under the blankets I closed my eyes. Slowing my breathing, I began to drift off to sleep, feeling the tension of the day's negotiations leaving my body.   
  
Suddenly I felt something.  
  
Pressure. On the mattress. Beside me.  
  
A single hand loosely draped over my waist, hanging limp in the darkness.   
  
I smiled.  
  
"Good night, Dorothy."  
  
"Good night, Roger."  
  
  



End file.
